


A Long December

by PBJellie



Category: South Park
Genre: Angst, Christmas, Estrangement, Family Issues, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Past Child Abuse, Recreational Drug Use, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-27 10:36:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17160431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PBJellie/pseuds/PBJellie
Summary: Desperation is a curious animal. Desperation can frequently make a person do things they would otherwise find bizarre. Maybe they are still bizarre under that lens, but they're necessary.Desperation was how Tweek Tweak found himself in an elf costume at the farmer's market.





	A Long December

Desperation is a curious animal. Desperation can frequently make a person do things they would otherwise find bizarre. Maybe they are still bizarre under that lens, but they're necessary.

Desperation was how Tweek Tweak found himself in an elf costume at the farmers market.

“They could at least give us coats,” the partner at his station said, rubbing the green felt against his arms. The bell on his hat jingled as he shivered in the cold next to the Christmas tree lot. “Santa didn't even show up.”

Tweek pondered briefly the economics of keeping the elves around when there was no Santa. Their job was to take the picture with a ratty old Polaroid camera, the kind where the picture printed out the front, and take five dollar bills. They were being paid five dollars an hour, under the table, to stand around a mostly deserted farmers market. Not having work to do didn't bother him.

Were there even any kids left in town? Tweek was fairly certain that the elementary school was open, but at twenty one he wasn't trolling that part of town.

They didn't come into the shop and he rarely ventured beyond those four walls. He was so entrenched in work, that he even had a cot set up in the back. He slept near the still whole beans and right above the secret ingredient. He used to sleep there, anyways. Right now he was sleeping in Craig Tucker's childhood bed. The room looked the same as it had when they were preteens; Red Racer bed sheets, posters of the solar system, and glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling.

He wasn't sure where Craig was sleeping, probably in an apartment. He always wanted to move somewhere warm. They'd joked when they were thirteen that they wanted to run away to somewhere warm.

Well, Tweek had joked. At sixteen, Craig did in fact run away.

In the joke, they always did it together. They were the town's darling couple. They didn't even properly date, not that Tweek wouldn't have, because by the time he hit fifteen, hormones hit him like a truck. And those hormones told him to shove his tongue in Craig's mouth and run his hand over the front of his jeans.

He listened.

And Craig pushed him as hard as he could, demanding to be filled in on what the fuck was going on. They weren't real boyfriends, he was reminded. It was an act to get money from the stupid hicks in town.

Craig didn't care if Tweek was actually gay, as long as he wasn't gay for him. Tweek felt like Craig did care, because he was gone within the month. And Tweek hadn't even decided if he was gay for him, or just gay in general.

It became clear in hindsight, that he was gay for Craig. Actually gay for him, whatever that meant.

Technically they never broke up, and he clung to that longer than he should have. Craig was still his boyfriend, and that was probably at least part of the reason his parents were letting him sleep in his bed.

“Look lady,” his partner, whose elf name was Jingle for the shift, “we don't load the trees.”

“Then why are you even here?” An older woman with short blonde hair complained. She looked vaguely familiar. Probably from the coffee shop, when he still worked there.

He said that like he hadn't just quit two weeks ago.

“Yeah, Jangle, why are we here?” Tweek's elf name is Jangle. Jingle and Jangle, last shift, yesterday, he was Jingle. This guy was new. He didn't realize how sweet of a gig they had, just standing around, snapping the occasional picture. It wasn't fourteen hour days, every day. 

And it was more money than the shop. His parents didn't pay him, because why should they. He got free room and board and they figured that a bed and heating with the occasional shower at his parents house, was worth at least two grand in this real estate market. Once they added in the costs of the food he ate, it was more than he would have made in a month, anyways. They were doing him a favor. 

Tweek didn't know if they were wrong. 

He did know that the owner of the farmers market was doing him a favor, and the Tuckers were also. They weren't even asking any money from him. They just showed him upstairs when he knocked on their door late on a Tuesday night. He had halfway hoped that maybe Craig had come back, and Craig would know what to do to get him away from working so much. 

"Jangle!" 

"Huh?" That was him. It was hard to remember to answer to his name. The twitching in his hands didn't help, neither did the dull nausea that ripped through him in waves. He knew what he was putting in the coffee, it was hard not to know by the time he hit fourteen. 

"You elves need to help me put this tree onto my car. The cashier said you'd do it. Chop chop." 

Tweek nodded while his partner gritted his teeth and mumbled about how the cashier was full of shit. They hoisted the tree onto the back of the gray sedan, the branches scratching against the paint. Tweek carefully wrapped twine through the open doors, and decided after about ten rounds, that the tree was as secure as a tree on top of a small family vehicle could be. 

The woman's face was in a tight line when she gave held out a dollar. Jingle grabbed it. 

Tweek didn't say anything, he just walked back to the front of the lot with the camera, and waited for the next customer until the cashier paid him twenty five dollars and told him to go home. 

He nodded, exchanging pleasantries with her. When he turned to walk away he heard Jingle whisper, though that couldn't have been his real name, no one was that ridiculous out here. His stage whisper needed work, but Tweek didn't comment on how weird they both seemed to think he was. 

The cashier told him, tone hushed, but not hushed enough, that it was that Tweak boy and there was something off about him. Tweek bristled, standing up straight as he turned down the road toward the Tuckers house. 

He still knocked on the door, even though Laura gave him a key. Thomas opened the door with a smile, ushering him inside. 

"Told you this is your house, boy," Thomas said, voice gravelly with sleep. He had a habit of falling asleep on the easy chair that faced the front window. Tweek thought it was charming, but when they were kids, Craig thought it was a nuisance. It was embarrassing. "Come, get out of that stupid outfit." 

Tweek smiled, pulling the hat off of his wild hair, bobby pins flying onto the carpet. He could smell something being cooked, meat frying as Laura looked toward the doorway. She waved him into the kitchen, smiling. They both smiled a lot. They seemed excited to have a child back in the house, like they were getting a third try to parent. 

Not that he thought there was anything wrong with Tricia. She was safe and off at college. Half a ride to U of D, or whatever they called it. He only heard through the grapevine. She would be home soon, presumably, and he'd have to talk with her then. And not just in a passing way, but actually talk over the two weeks or so she'd take off. 

Maybe there wasn't anything wrong with Craig, either. He had grown tired of the pretending at the end. Tweek couldn't blame him; it was taxing. Though he suspected it was taxing in a different way. 

"How was work?" Laura asked as he climbed into a chair at the bar. There was already a snack laid out, two cookies they had baked the night before. He had put on ten pounds in the last two weeks, but everything he read said that was normal. The Tuckers didn't seem concerned. 

Not that he was forthcoming about the meth addiction to them. Nor the heroin that Kenny sold him. He wasn't proud  that he stole from the till to support his habit. 

"Santa, the Santa," he emphasized with a chuckle, spewing crumbs across the counter, "he didn't show up." 

"That's so bizarre," Laura giggled along with him. "So what did they do, have kids take pictures with the elves?" 

"Nope," he popped the last syllable like Craig used to, and felt the mood in the room turn. "Uh, I mean, I mean no," he tried to save it, but he couldn't. They both heard that sound, and even five years after the fact it stung. He imagined it hurt Laura more than him. "Sorry. I'm sorry." 

"You don't have anything to be sorry for," she said, refusing to turn and look at him. It sounded like she was crying into the pan in front of her. "You didn't do anything wrong." 

Privately, Tweek thought he did plenty wrong, but instead of arguing he just nodded. His head felt foggy, and he hadn't even woke up until 2pm for his 3pm shift. It was 8:30 and he was exhausted. He fell into the pattern of falling asleep right after dinner, sometimes still in his work clothes. Google said it was the drugs, and he had thought, many times, to call Kenny over and ask for him to deliver something. 

He didn't want to bring that mess into their house. They didn't have to let him stay there, just like how his parents didn't have to let him stay in an actual bedroom. It'd spit in the face of their charity to bring in his personal bullshit. Their had to be a limit to their kindness, and Tweek was fairly certain that uppers and downers would be what left him homeless. 

"We just miss him. We all miss him." She paused, stirring the meat a final time then turning the burner off. A jar of sauce was poured into it as she dumped pasta in a separate pot. "I know you said you didn't know, and I don't think you're lying. We really believe you, we do." She took another breath, shoulders shaking. "But are you sure there's not anything you remember that would let us know where he was." 

Tweek racked his brain, but ended with knocking his head against the counter top. He let out a loud sigh, before recounting everything he knew to her.

"He wanted to be warm. He said it was too cold here, and I agreed even though, even though the cold doesn't matter to me. He mattered to me, so I agreed." When Laura didn't say anything, he kept talking. "I was a dumb kid, so I agreed. I should have said don't ever leave, but then I kissed him and he left. I shouldn't have, he didn't like me, and I did it anyways. And I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry. I should be sleeping in the back room at the shop, over the meth, but instead I'm in his spot in his kitchen. And everyone is sad and it's all my fault. I did this, I did it, and now he's gone." 

"What?" She asked, "Tweek, honey, what are you talking about? Meth?" There was a hand on his shoulder, reassuring but firm. He flinched, anyways. "Tweek what do you mean, meth?" 

"Never mind." The stone on the counter felt cool against his face. "It's not a big deal." 

"It sounds like a big deal," she pressed. "It sounds like you have a drug problem you didn't tell us about. Did you give Craig drugs? Is Craig on drugs?" Her voice grew more frantic as she continued, and Tweek shrank in on himself as he heard the creak of the recliner. 

"No," Tweek lied. He had given Craig drugs. He had given all his friends drugs, and their parents. He'd probably given everyone in the damn town a cup of meth laced coffee at least once. 

"We tell the truth in this house, son," Thomas boomed from behind him.

"Yes," he changed his answer, for fear of reprisal down the road. He didn't have much of a resistance to male authority figures. "It's - gah! - it's in the coffee. My parents put it in the coffee and I gave everyone coffee. It's, nnn, it's always been in the coffee, and I've always, I've always drank the coffee. I haven't drank it in, how long have I been here? I haven't had any that whole time. I don't want it." 

Not wanting it was a lie, because he very much wanted to have a cup of coffee and a delivery from Kenny. He kept that part to himself. 

"Oh my God, Thomas," Laura exclaimed, pulling her hand off of Tweek. He was tainted, he knew that. 

"Can I get my backpack before I go?" He sighed, feeling the pit in his stomach sink. His parents would let him back, he figured. It had been a nice two weeks of living with a real family, but he figured it wouldn't last. He slunk out of his seat, hanging his head so he didn't have to make eye contact with either of the Tuckers. 

"Do you think he's on drugs?" Laura exclaimed, worriedly. "Do you think he's just in Denver? Should we call the police to update them? Should we drive to Denver? Honey! Are you listening?" 

Tweek frozen on the middle of the stairs as another hand was placed on his shoulder. A larger hand grabbed him, harder than Laura had. 

"What are you doing?" He asked. It was loud, but not unkind. 

"I'll check the gay bars, again!" Laura said. Tweek turned to see her throwing on her coat and slipping on house shoes. "Come on Thomas." 

"He's not gay," Tweek whispered, deflating as he pulled away from Thomas. 

"He's not gay?" Thomas asked, disbelieving. 

Tweek shook his head. 

"What on earth do you mean he's not gay? You two dated for almost six years. He's gay. I found condoms in his bedroom. I know you two were having sex." 

Tweek snorted, shoulders shaking as the laughter turned into into something akin to crying. Tweek had certainly never had sex with Craig. He wondered who he found to have sex with, but then decided against thinking about it for too long. It was probably Heidi; she always hung around.

"Are you serious?" Thomas asked, reaching out for him again as he climbed the stairs. "You two aren't gay?" 

"He's not gay," Tweek tried to smile. "He's not gay," he repeated, softer. 

"Honey," Laura called from the front door, which she had propped open. "Let's go look for him." 

"Don't go anywhere," Thomas said, voice low and threatening. "Just go up to your room and go to sleep."

Tweek nodded and watched them whirl away, car screeching as it was thrown into reverse. He stared at the empty driveway from the window he could see from the stairs. He was going to go to his room and sleep. 

The room he was currently sleeping in was Craig's room; his room was back at the shop. He changed out of his ridiculous felt outfit, and put on his Tweak Bros uniform. It was only nine by the time he'd gathered his toothbrush and deodorant, shoving them in his backpack. He had some money, too. Seven days worth of wages from being an elf.

Enough to afford to go to dinner before he walked back to the shop. He hadn't had City Wok since Craig had taken him ages ago. Was that their last date? It wasn't even a real date. Tweek had never been on a real date in his life and he was twenty-one. He caught sight of himself in the reflection from the windows. 

He looked better than he had looked in a long time. The bags under his eyes were dissipating, and he had fleshed out a bit. It almost seemed like a waste to throw it all in the trash, but he remembered he was sleeping in Craig's bedroom, and if they found him, he wouldn't want Tweek around. 

It was a good vacation. He personally think he had a better time than when in middle school Cartman got to go to Disney World. He'd brought back pictures and rubbed it in everyone's faces that he got to meet the real Aladdin. Tweek had gotten to live a whole different kind of life for two weeks. 

He walked outside, locking the door with the key they had given him before shoving it under the mat. He hoped they could find it, but if they couldn't, they knew where to find him. It was cold, and he considered buying a coat on his walk home, to his real home, but when would he go back outside again? He had a blanket in the backroom, over his cot, for when the heat kicked off at around ten when they closed shop. 

He slunk through the front door, letting his head fall forward. Without words his Dad poured him a cup of coffee, and slipped an apron over his head. He drank it, trying to force a smile onto his face. His Dad didn't even say he missed him, he just walked out the door, leaving the shop to Tweek. 

He quickly fell back into his rhythm, with Christmas songs blaring overhead as he looked at the menu board for the specials. They still had Pumpkin spice, which seemed like a hold over, but he didn't care. If someone wanted a pumpkin spice latte he could make it without thought. 

No one ordered one before close though. He cleaned the machines with the Christmas music still playing. The clock on the wall said it was almost one am by the time he finally retired to his bed. 

Once he laid down, he realized he couldn't sleep. That the one coffee had been enough to keep him awake until morning, and decided to sift through his bag. He had that money, still. He could go get some fun stuff from Walmart, a Christmas gift to himself. Some pajamas could be nice, for the winter at least. Another few pairs of socks and a few pairs of underwear.

And if there was any money left over, maybe he'd pick up a book. He'd like to read when he was in school, it was a nice diversion from the day to day bullshit of work and Craig being gone. He nodded to himself in reassurance as he walked through the empty town. 

And somehow, as soon as he walked into the store, the plan no longer mattered. He browsed the store, wide eyed. He found himself in the electronics section. He had 175 dollars, which was the most he'd ever had at one time since they were kids. Craig had always managed his money, because his dad always managed to get him to hand it over. 

He could buy a tablet for seventy dollars, which seemed wrong. He looked at the tablet fastened to the counter, pulling it out to look. It could connect to the free wifi the shop had. If he got this he could watch videos and maybe even pirate books. 

In the end, he walked out with a set of pajama pants, a pack of plain black t-shirts, a bundle of socks, five new pairs of underwear, plus the tablet with a case. It came with some kids program free of charge for the next year. If nothing else, then he could have a year of cartoons. 

That left him with about thirty dollars, and he decided that he'd buy a the nicest box of chocolates he could afford. He grabbed it, ran back through the line, and rushed back to the Tucker's house. He didn't linger in the doorway as he placed the gift on the mat. He left quickly, pushing thoughts of staying with them away. 

Craig would be there, and Craig didn't want him there. He shouldn't have kissed Craig. He wasn't gay and it was wrong to come onto him like that. They'd talked about consent a hundred times with ten different authority figures, and somehow it hadn't sunk in. 

By the time he was back in bed, the tablet charging next to him, it was three in the morning. He played around on the tablet until four am, when he had to open the shop. Right before he climbed out of bed, his green pj pants falling at his ankle bones, he managed to log into his old Facebook account. 

He hadn't had many friends, but to him forty-nine people felt like a lot. He brushed his teeth as he looked at the screen. He noticed that Craig Tucker was still his friend. Tweek knew he wasn't really his friend, that if they were really friends Tweek would know where he was. He tapped his face. 

He was older, which meant he was probably alive. He had a little bit of a beard, a goatee that made Tweek laugh. He seemed tall. He had a pretty girl next to him in a few of his pictures. Long brown hair was drawn into a pony tail as they were outside. Were they hiking? 

He kept scrolling through the pictures, and saw a large McDonald's in the background of one. It was shaped strangely, like a UFO.

"Holy shit."

That was in Roswell New Mexico. They had joked about going there, to the spaceship McDonald's. They said they'd go for their senior trip, to see if they could find any aliens. He had gone, without him. 

Tweek kept scrolling, seeing pictures of the desert. Why hadn't Craig blocked him? He must have blocked his family, so why not him? Did he remember that Tweek couldn't get onto Facebook at home? He must had remembered, or just forgot about Tweek entirely. He clicked on his profile again and saw that Craig had some 654 friends. Tweek could easily get lost in that mess. 

He stopped for a moment, spitting into the sink, wondering if he should tell the Tuckers. Craig wouldn't want him to tell, but they were so brokenhearted. They were in such a state of mourning that they'd even allowed him to live in Craig's room as some sort of low budget replacement. 

He brewed himself a cup of coffee, pouring the largest to-go cup they had full. He sipped it as he continued to look through his account. He was in Roswell, he had to be. He had pictures at the alien museum, pictures of him at some university, pictures of him kissing the pretty girl. He didn't look at those pictures for very long. 

He had to tell them, he decided. He threw his work shirt over the plain t-shirt he had just bought, and slipped on his shoes and socks. He raced through the streets, tablet and coffee in hand. He left the shop open, since he didn't have a key to lock it. He hoped it didn't get robbed.

The streets were empty this early in the morning, so he doubted it would happen. 

He beat on the door, noticing both cars in the driveway. He pounded as hard as he could, until Thomas opened the door from his chair. 

"You left." he said, gruffly. Tweek nodded. He did leave. "I told you not to leave. We didn't want chocolates, we wanted you to stay put, like I asked." He eyed the coffee and scowled at Tweek. "Thought there were drugs in the coffee."  

Instead of fighting semantics on the issue, he just said, "Craig is in Roswell." 

"What?" Thomas asked, face softening. Tweek held the tablet out towards him, turning it on. He showed him pictures of Craig, lingering on the one with the girl. He pointed to the McDonald's. 

"That's in Roswell. They are the only place that has that." 

"Laura, get up!" Thomas yelled, moving toward the stairs. "Pack a bag!" 

Laura didn't reply, but Tweek did see the lights flick on upstairs. He left with a juvenile wave, his hand close to his chest. He decided to leave the tablet with them. They could look for more clues from Craig while they were on the road. They needed it more than him. 

He didn't get a thank you, but they didn't tell him to never come back, either. It seemed like an okay middle ground. Like they didn't care for him, but they didn't hate him. That was really the best he could hope for. Maybe when Craig came back to town, he'd feel that way, too. 

He walked back to the shop, finishing his coffee. He managed to open before the posted time, by some miracle. He worked, drinking coffee as he went. He'd gotten new socks out of the deal, so that was nice. He'd had a nice break from working. He'd felt a faux sense of importance for the last two weeks, like he was a suitable replacement. 

He wasn't. He wasn't a good replacement for Craig. He wasn't as charming as him, or as smooth talking, or even as handsome. He surely wasn't as smart. He settled back into the rhythm of working all day, and staring at the ceiling in the backroom when he was supposed to be sleeping. 

He worked through the holidays, opening the shop on Christmas. People needed their coffee everyday, or that's what his Dad said. Kenny dropped by, the first customer of the morning, shaking a little bag in front of him. 

"A Christmas present," he said, a hood covering most of his face. "Don't use too much." 

Tweek snatched it, setting it next to the register. It was probably slow enough to shoot up now, but who knew when someone would walk in. That was something that he used for after the shop was closed, so he could sleep. 

"Thanks," he said, popping open the drawer to hand over twenty dollars. Kenny took it, and they exchanged hollow greetings of Merry Christmas. 

He had about a dozen customers all morning, but all of them tipped him. He repaid the twenty to the drawer, and kept the other ten dollars for himself. Maybe if he saved enough he could get another tablet. Ten buck was enough for a new book, a couple if he went to the thrift store. Next time he had time off to shower, maybe he'd take an extra hour and pick a few out. They probably wouldn't complain about that sort of thing. 

He giggled to himself, knowing full well that the money was as good as Kenny's. It was fun to fantasize though. As the sun set, he started to dream about what his life with Craig could have been like if they did all the things they said they wanted to. He could be in Roswell, too. It was warmer there, though in some of his pictures there was snow. 

Maybe he would have gone to college, and he wouldn't be drinking spiked coffee as he sat alone on Christmas. Maybe he'd have a boyfriend, and while he wanted that boyfriend to be Craig, it would be nice to have anyone. He wondered what that man would look like, what he'd act like, as he fingered the baggie by the register. 

The door dinged as he imagined this pretend person. He didn't look up, he rarely did, but he did shove the baggie out of sight. 

"Imagine seeing you here," an unfamiliar voice called out laughing. Was this someone from the Christmas tree lot? He never gave them their costume back. He hung his head as he went to the backroom, digging through his bag for the felt monstrosity. 

"Sorry, didn't get a chance to wash it," he said, holding it out like an offering. 

"What's this? I don't want this, whatever it is." The voice laughed. The bell dinged again, and he perked up when he heard Laura and Thomas talking. He finally looked up, and saw Craig, right in front of him. 

"No fucking way," he said aloud as Craig dropped his tablet to the counter. 

"Should have been a detective," he laughed, the smile reaching his eyes. He didn't seem mad that he was found. "You were always good at that kind of shit." 

Tweek froze beneath the families gaze. Tricia was behind her parents, head buried in her phone. They seemed happy, like when Tweek was a kid. They didn't even scold him for saying shit, but he was grown. They were the same age, almost. Twenty two looked good on Craig; better than it would ever look on Tweek. He took another drink of his coffee, gulping it down until the cup was empty. 

Laura and Thomas watched, straight faced as he poured himself another cup. They didn't tell him to stop. They would have told Craig to stop, but he wasn't Craig and he wasn't even Craig's boyfriend. 

"We should break up," Tweek says, a bitter laugh under his breath. 

"Yeah, dude. We're breaking up," Craig said, "I've got a fiancee, she's great. Best thing that ever happened to me." Tweek nodded, pretending to be happy and not upset. 

"You guys want some coffee?" He asked, looking down at the register. "We still have pumpkin spice." 

"Is it still special coffee?" Craig asked, raising his eyebrows, like it was some big joke. Tweek nodded, and Craig burst into laughter. "I'll pass then. God, I forgot how fucked up this town was." 

"We're fine, thanks," Laura said, words clipped. She didn't admonish him, nor did she seem concerned, so he took another drink. "Thank you for finding Craig," she added, voice more fluid.

"Yeah, I missed them," Craig added. "Even Tricia." 

She didn't look up from her phone, just flipped him off. 

"We owe you one," Thomas said, walking forward to clap a hand on his shoulder. "Have a good night." 

And they left, chatting among themselves in their reunion bliss. He had at least gotten them all back together, he thought when the door dinged, slamming against the hinges. He leaned against the register, finding the small bag. He didn't even bother turning off the lights or locking the door. He put a line onto his tablet, arraigned it with a business card, pulled a straw from the caddy, and snorted. 

He didn't look up when the door dinged again. 

"What the fuck, dude," Craig said as Tweek rubbed his nose. It burned a bit, but it wasn't unbearable. Nothing could be quiet as unbearable as his ex-boyfriend breaking up with him after being gone for five years while his family watched and everyone was so giggly. "I said, what the fuck?" 

"I heard you," he said, slouching back against the register. "Do you, nnn, do you want a coffee?" 

"Dude, weak," Craig sighed, eyeing him up and down. "Mom said you stayed with them for a couple weeks."

"I did," he slurred, feeling the drug finally hit him. "In your room, damnedest thing. I was your replacement, man." Tweek laughed, resting the top of his chin against the register and hugging it. He felt like he was going to fall over, but he didn't want to do that in front of Craig. Not that there was anything there, because there obviously wasn't. 

"You weren't a replacement," Craig scowled. "That's not why they let you stay. They were worried." 

"About you," Tweek giggled, unable to control himself. "They thought you were a drug addict. You! Hah!" 

"Tweek, stop doing this," Craig warned, voice somber. It was just so funny to Tweek. Here he was, with his old boyfriend who had been gone with five years without so much as a postcard, and here he was, telling him to get himself together. 

"You want some coffee?" Tweek asked, again, holding back his laughter. Occasionally a laugh would sneak out, making his chest heave up and down. 

"No," Craig repeated. "I don't want any coffee." 

"Your loss,"  Tweek said, feeling his knees buckle beneath him. "Lots of things are your loss," he added, holding the register tighter.

"Dude, I'm calling my parents, and they're gonna come grab you and take you home or to the hospital." It wasn't a question; it was a statement. 

"I'm home, and I don't have anyone to visit at the hospital. Mom and Dad are at home eating Christmas dinner, probably, and Kenny already visited. He gives the best gifts, though. So thoughtful. How's Roswell? Is it, is it everything we talked about?" 

"I'm in Las Cruces, but Roswell is fun. It's great, just come to this side of the counter." 

"That's a long way to go just to get away from me," Tweek snickered unwrapping himself from the register, and falling to the floor. It didn't hurt. Heroin made things not hurt, so in that way it was good. 

"Jesus Christ!" He was hoisted into Craig's arms pretty quickly. 

"You used to do this in my wet dreams," Tweek laughed, wrapping his arms around his neck. "We'd make out and I'd touch your butt. You'd let me, too." 

"Tweek, I'm not gay." Craig said, flatly. "I'm about to get married, to a woman. I like girls." 

"And I like boys," Tweek laughed, pulling on his neck. "I like like them," he snorted. "It's like we're fifteen, again. I missed you." 

"I know," Craig answered, grabbing the tablet with his free hand. "Anything you want from the backroom?" 

"All my stuff is back there. In a backpack. I have new socks, and I like those." Tweek watched the room spin around him as Craig maneuvered to grab his backpack. "I missed you, not just a little. I missed you the most. You were my person, Craig. My favorite person. Now Kenny has to be my favorite, do you know what that feels like? Kenny is my new favorite, but just because I thought maybe you died. I figured a dead person couldn't be my favorite, but your not dead, so I guess it's still you." 

"Do you live here?" Craig asked, disbelieving. "Why don't you have an apartment, or a trailer, or a room?" Tweek laughed. 

"Today I made thirty dollars, because people feel bad. People don't feel bad all year, just at Christmas. I'd have to make more than thirty dollars to have an apartment." 

"You don't get OT on Christmas?" Craig asked, hitching him up in his arms again. Tweek laughed as he bounced, like he was a little kid. 

"I just work. I work and I work, and when I wake up the next day I work. It's good to work. Hard to think about where your piece of shit boyfriend is." 

"Christ," Craig muttered to himself as he pushed the door open. The Tucker's car, the nice one, was parked on the street, idling. 

"By the way, I'm gay gay, like gay for you gay," Tweek howled with laughter as the backseat swung open. Craig set him on the seat, next to Tricia who was still on her phone. Maybe it was new, it seemed nice. 

"Why is he here?" Tricia asked, pressing herself into the door. "He's acting stupid." 

"He's high," Craig sounded angry. "This is why I didn't want to come back." 

"Not because you were too chicken to tell your dad you're straight?" Tweek laughed, pushing himself onto Craig. "Because it's so bad to be straight. Isn't the car full of straight people?" 

"Shut up," Craig snapped, shoving Tweek onto Tricia. "I didn't want to see him. I didn't want to see this town. I'm never coming back to this fucked up place. You can rot alone in your fucked up town."   
"Craig Tucker!" Laura turned in her seat, twisting to glare. "That is not good behavior."

"I mean it. This," he gestured to Tweek as he fell back onto Craig. "This is what here does to a person."

"Then you should have took me with you," Tweek didn't laugh this time. "I wish you would have taken me with. Even if we weren't boyfriends, and were just best friends. Because we were, right? Best friends? Was that a lie for money, too?" 

"Yeah, we were," Craig said softly. "We were best friends." 

"At least that wasn't a lie," he said softly, letting his eyes droop closed on Craig shoulder as they pulled into traffic. "Best friends." 


End file.
